Chapter 8: Hornet's Nest

Alex was exactly where he left him, curled up on his side, staring at the curtain warily.

The throbbing pain behind John's left eye was gradually turning into a stabbing pain, so he was impressed that Alex had made it this long. He could only hope that Alex would just pass out at some point, because he wasn't likely to get relief any other way.

John crouched down beside the bed, dangling the keys in Alex's field of view. "Keys, as promised. Just have to figure out which one." He winced at the scrapes and bruising around the one wrist. It needed to be cleaned, but he doubted that Alex was going to let just anyone get close to him. He eyed the lock on the cuff, then shuffled through the keys looking for the best match. Someone really should have it labeled…

"Someone I trust is going to come down here and they'll make sure no one bothers you," John explained, as he tried one key after the other. "If you can rest for a bit, it will probably help how you're feeling." He wasn't about to put words in the kid's mouth, but he looked awful.

The latch clicked open and John gently removed the cuffs. One wrist was just reddened under the tight pressure – no doubt it too would've caused open sores if he had worn it for much longer. The other wrist was scrapped raw and still oozing, though whether Alex actually noticed it with everything else going on was unknown.

Definitely needed to be cleaned and wrapped.

"Colonel," Dr. Lam stood at the edge of the curtain, a respectful distance away. Alex still flinched away. She had another blanket and some other supplies in her hands.

"His wrist needs cleaned," John said.

She handed him the blanket, before peering down at Alex's wrist. "I can—"

John caught her wrist before she got too close, watching Alex's expression carefully. "Wait." The kid was watching them guardedly, body tensed to the point that the tremors were almost suppressed. "Alex, can Dr. Lam—"

Alex pulled away so abruptly, it was a miracle that he didn't fall off the bed. "No."

"Okay…" John shared a cautious glance with Dr. Lam, who thankfully took the cue and stepped back. "We won't then."

A fear of doctors? Medical settings?

Fear of something, that was for sure.

"Feel like doing a little first aid then, Colonel?" Dr. Lam almost sounded amused.

John kept his face carefully blank, but took the supplies she passed him. Carson had walked him through minor wound care more than once during their annual retrainings. He could practically do it in his sleep at this point. "Can I take care of your wrist?"

Alex stiffened again, before glancing warily down at his arm. He seemed to register for the first time that it wasn't… right. Slowly, after a long moment, he nodded his head and held out his wrist.

Dr. Lam disappeared around the curtain once more and John set about cleaning out the abrasions. Mainly superficial wounds, though there were some more impressive cuts in the mix. Though nothing that would require stitches or even butterfly bandages.

The tremors were back in full force, making it harder than John expected to wrap the wrist. But he managed.

Then, he unfolded the blanket and pulled it up over the kid.

The little gestures seemed to do a lot for getting him to relax.

This kid was traumatized. John doubted there was any way a goa'uld could fake it for this long.

"I'll be right back."

The positive sign was that Alex's eyes were drooping. Sleep would be good for him.

John slipped back around the curtain and was met with Sergeant Mackenzie and Dr. Lam. The stabbing pain behind his eye was building, but he knew he had to do something to keep the base from falling apart. "Sergeant, please ensure that Colonel Stadler is confined to quarters and the base is placed in lockdown until General O'Neill arrives. I'm taking command under Authorization Zero-Three-Ninety." It was a good thing he had read through the regulation books on his downtime. Demonstrable incapacitation of the senior commanding officer was a hard one to prove, but he had Dr. Lam's backing that something was not right in this entire situation.

Stadler could've been a goa'uld for all they knew at this point.

Sergeant Mackenzie shot off a sharp salute. "Already done, sir. And may I suggest sir, a thorough accounting of the zat'nik'tel present on base?"

John nodded. They could save O'Neill some of the foot work. And John really wanted some answers. He was going to question Stadler's team, but doubted he would be able to actually face Stadler with a level head. And a migraine.

"Colonel Stadler's team is currently confined to the level 22 briefing rooms."

"I'd like to speak with them." John hesitated, before asking, "Separately, if possible."

Sergeant Mackenzie nodded. "I'll get it set up, right away sir."

"And send down someone you trust – I need a guard for our visitor." Though at this stage, he suspected they would be guarding Alex from unknowns within the base. And it wasn't exactly a safe base in the first place. If word got out that Stadler had been involved in something suspicious… the men on the base would either go against him or support him.

And John didn't want anyone that would support Stadler near the infirmary.

"Yes, sir!"

John dismissed him with a nod and turned to Dr. Lam. "Superficial wounds from the cuffs. Tried convincing him to get some rest." It was about the extent of treatment they were going to be able to manage at this point. "As long as everyone leaves him alone for a bit, I think he should be okay."

Dr. Lam gave him another unamused glance, before holding out a small cup with several pills in it and a cup of water with straw. "Do you think he'd take something if he saw you take it first?"

John eyed the pills cautiously. "What is it?"

"Dissolvable crynigtate." At his blank look, she clarified. "It's a medicine we found on P5X-228, two years ago. Standard in every med kit now for interim pain relief, but won't knock you out. No one has ever responded negatively to it." She peered at him cautiously. "And to be completely frank, you're looking a little rough around the edges yourself, sir."

John grimaced. He didn't have time for this. "Fine, let's do it." He took the little cup of pills. "Four each?"

"Just put them under the tongue."

"Right." He was just going to have to add miracle worker to his resume. "Anything else?"

"Cold compress for his eyes. Everyone I've seen in here with PZS has had a migraine, so I suspect everything else is covering up the signs with him." Her lips turned down in a frown. "And since he won't tolerate any medical personnel within five feet, we'll just have to stick with standard remedies. And if you could convince him to tolerate the monitor, that would put the rest of us at ease."

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Medical personnel liked to know every movement a person made in the infirmary. "No promises." The pills were probably going to be hard enough.

He turned away before she could tack on another request or five and passed back through the curtain. He wouldn't be surprised if Alex could hear half of what they had been saying, but there was no sign on the kid's face that he really cared.

John hooked his ankle around the chair near the head of the bed and sat down. Didn't need to go destroying his knees when there was a perfectly good chair.

Alex did not look good. Pale. Sweating. Tremors constantly vibrating his body. Hands clenched together hard enough that his knuckles were white. One eye closed against the glare, the other flicking between John and the still curtain. Had it been anyone else, anywhere else, John would've demanded a medical team's assistance at once.

But Alex didn't trust them.

And that was their own fault.

Never mind that he shouldn't have gotten this bad in the first place if people had been doing their jobs correctly.

"Colonel Stadler and his men are locked away. They're not going to be able to come… question you anymore." Because that was the most innocuous thing he could think that Stadler had been doing. Questioning a witness. "But I've got to take care of some things around here, see if we can't find out how you got mixed up in all of this."

"B-Byrne?" Alex licked his lips, eye tracking John's every movement.

"Yeah… uh, I've got someone working on that." Which he would, the moment he stepped out of the room. There were too many pieces he needed to juggle, but that's why he had called for backup. His job was only interim. "Listen… the doc gave me some medicine."

Alex locked onto the cup full of pills and surprisingly, didn't immediately jerk away. He definitely looked wary though.

John rattled the cup enticingly. "And I don't know about you, but getting hit with one of those… things really hurts. Especially multiple times. I only got hit once, but…" He held out his hand, let Alex see the faint trembling that he had so far been able to suppress in front of Dr. Lam. It wasn't as bad as last time, nowhere near as bad as Alex had it, but it was a definite sign that he hadn't escaped unscathed. "If I do, you will?"

There was a long moment as Alex regarded him warily, before something settled in his expression. Resignation, perhaps. "Okay."

"It dissolves," John said, needlessly. He poured four out in his palm, then popped them in his mouth, letting the pills dissolve underneath his tongue. There was a slightly bitter taste, but after a few seconds, it too disappeared. "It should help some with… everything."

It took a long moment for Alex to maneuver the pills to his mouth and he made a face at the taste, but it seemed it was a success. Helping him drink some of the water was a little more of an adventure, but it seemed that John had passed some sort of test.

Miracle numero uno.

"Two more things."

Alex watched him with a slightly less wary eye.

"I don't know if you realize it, but you're in the infirmary here."

Alex rolled an eye at that. Obviously.

"And the doc-medical people here like to keep an eye on their patients. They've agreed to leave you alone for a while. No needles. But they would like you to wear a monitor to make sure nothing… happens." He probably could've figured out a better way to word that. He didn't want to scare the kid into thinking something might happen. But he also knew strange things could happen all of a sudden in infirmaries. PZS was still relatively new.

Alex nodded, then closed his eyes. "Just… get Byrne."

Right.

He fixed the sticky patch around a fingertip and was rewarded with a proper response on the monitor.

134.

A high heart rate, but then what did he know?

"And someone thought you might like a cold compress for your eyes."

Alex shook his head.

"Forehead?"

That didn't get such a vehemently negative response and after a few seconds, John took as for the yes that it was and situated the compress.

There was slight movement by the end of the curtain and John looked up. Sergeant Mackenzie had come through it seemed. He squinted at the name tag, before turning back to Alex. "Airman Patrick is going to make sure you're undisturbed. Let him know if you need anything and I'll be back in a while."

John took the utter lack of movement or attempt at a response as acknowledgment and stood up from the chair. He resisted the urge to stretch out the creak in his neck with Airman Patrick looking on.

He wasn't that old.

He waved the airman just outside of the curtain. "No one is to pass these curtains. No one. Not unless there's a medical emergency that Dr. Lam herself has informed you of. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

John lowered his voice, so it hopefully wouldn't carry to the bed. "On the other hand, if he tries anything, evacuate the infirmary and initiate lockdown protocol." He doubted Alex would try anything. Gut feeling usually won out, but he also hadn't gotten to his position without being aware of planning for contingencies.

"Yes, sir." This time, it was a little more subdued.

"Did Sargent Mackenzie say where he was setting up?"

"E201, sir. Corporal Walters is waiting to escort you."

John nodded, squared his shoulders, then shoved the remaining remnants of the migraine down. He was a Lieutenant Colonel – injuries and fatigue meant nothing when things needed to get done.

Besides, Dr. Lam's medication was surely working already.

The migraine was coming back.

He breathed through his nose and tried not to let his utter annoyance show quite so clearly on his face. Judging by Sergeant Mackenzie's expression, he wasn't doing too well.

"And just why was protocol not followed, Sergeant Patterson?"

"Major Brigham said—"

"Are you incapable of thinking?"

"No, sir."

It was, unfortunately, the exact same tune that had been sung by all the other members of Colonel Stadler's team. They were all well aware that they were breaking protocol – yet none of them had thought that perhaps a teenager in a Trust stronghold was a suspicious occurrence.

Well, they thought it was suspicious.

But it had apparently never occurred to them that people from Earth were getting kidnapped as well.

"Were you incapable of asking for a portable scanner?" Because that's what half the arguments had boiled down to. Colonel Stadler had suspected that Alex had been implanted and was working with the Trust. They had found him in a room all but filled with symbiotes, most of which were dead.

"He-he ripped a… a symbiote in half! Sir."

That was also another piece that had popped up in several of the retellings. That Alex had actively been killing the symbiotes. Some had him merely grabbing the bodies and ripping them in half, while others had him slinging around the dead bodies as projectile weapons.

And it hadn't occurred to any of them that that was a remarkably unusual approach for any goa'uld they had come across in the galaxy. Symbiotes were precious – in limited quantity, if the few remaining goa'uld strongholds were to be believed.

That anyone would go tearing through hundreds of them…

It smacked of self-defense against an enemy that he didn't understand.

Of course, there were questions as to how, exactly, Alex had ended up in the raid location in the first place.

That was the bit that was unclear.

"So Colonel Stadler decides that this kid can't be trusted, all because you saw him killing symbiotes." John resisted the urge to rub at the pressure point between his eyebrows. Dr. Lam's medication was nothing compared to the stupidity of following questionable orders. "Did the fact that you all snuck him into the old holding cells without General Mitchell's knowledge not ring any alarm bells?"

"He was deemed a threat. Sir."

Sergeant Patterson was clearly not the brightest light bulb in the bunch, though it did make John wonder about the quality of the recruits. It was for exactly this reason he had requested the ability to review any incoming troops for Atlantis. This kind of blind devotion usually ended up with someone getting maimed or killed.

"He's a kid. Or have you never come across that subspecies?" John cut off any further response, by standing up and stalking out of the room. It was all just one major headache. There were protocols for a reason.

Sergeant Mackenzie followed him out into the hall, locking the door behind them.

John indulged his headache for a moment, massaging the muscles at the back of his neck. "Alright, let's get to the next one then. Maybe this… Major Brigham?"

Sergeant Mackenzie grimaced. "Major Brigham checked out of the mountain three hours ago. He hasn't been located."

Fuck.

And if that wasn't suspicious as hell, John wasn't sure what was.

Three hours ago had been right after Alex had escaped the cell. Right after they had both been shot.

Major Brigham knew something and had likely scrambled as soon as he heard rumors about another superior officer getting involved.

Sneaky bastard.

"Alright… Have you gotten anything on this Byrne person?"

Another grimace. "Only that the name matches a personal cell number. Nelson hasn't been able to locate any further information – everything is locked down behind security firewalls that we can't access."

Which meant that Byrne was in some way related to the government – Agent, after all.

Alex was just turning into more and more of an enigma.

"Perhaps you should take a break, sir."

John let his shoulders droop for a moment, before squaring them away again. "No, no… We need to… finish up this round of interviews." He wanted nothing more than to stop and take a little nap – insanely jealous that Alex could just nap in the infirmary, actually – but he still didn't quite trust the people around him. "Also, any word from the scientists about the zats?"

He hadn't missed the several updates Mackenzie had gotten over his headset. John really needed to get one of those for himself, but he was also pretty sure he couldn't tolerate the sound input. Perfect way to spike the migraine again.

"Area 51 reports they still have their prototype. Scientists accounted for all their devices. Armory recalled and inventoried all zats." He hesitated, before continuing. "Twenty-five percent of the devices show signs of tampering – Dr. Murdoch suspects that they've somehow been upgraded to the 2.0 version."

Perfect.

A fucking nightmare.

He was looking forward to being able to shove all the responsibility on O'Neill the moment he arrived. This wasn't even Atlantis and he was up to his neck in it.

"And—" Sergeant Mackenzie hesitated, looking sheepish. "The IOA representatives are demanding to know what's going on and why they are being restricted to quarters."

John could feel the throbbing behind his eyes. What part of base lockdown did they not understand? "Is Daniels on base?"

"Yes, sir."

"Send him to deal with them." After all, he was practically one of them. It would be a good stretch of his diplomatic skills. If he couldn't calm down a bunch of rabid representatives, then he would have no chance on Atlantis. "Alright…" John pushed off the wall and started walking down the hall toward the next interrogation room. "Who do you have for me next then?"

The airman across the table from him was practically shaking in his boots.

He hadn't even been on the mission – taken out of commission by a stomach bug – but had had close contact with the rest of his team following the mission. He had reported that Colonel Stadler was behaving strangely, but a certain Major Brigham had ignored him.

"Once you were cleared for duty, you went to see Colonel Stadler." John clarified, trying to wrangle his way through the timeline. Thank goodness Sergeant Mackenzie was taking diligent notes. "And he told you your team was on stand-down for the next 48 hours."

"Yessir."

"And this struck you odd, why?"

"We were scheduled for P2X-592 at 0300 hours, sir."

John glanced at Mackenzie, asking for a translation.

"Beta site, sir."

"Right…" He resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the table. No one else had mentioned that little tidbit. It put their actions into a strange new light. Just what had they been expecting to do with their little prisoner? Or had Stadler even thought out that far in advance?

All it did was paint an even uglier picture.

"And when you reported to Major Brigham?"

"He stated that the team had more important things to worry about than the upcoming mission, sir." The airman nervously chewed on his lip. "He declined to share what with me." Likely because Airman Michaels was the only non-marine on the team and wasn't an officer. John had seen the issues with mixed teams before – though never on Atlantis.

"Sir—" Sergeant Mackenzie stood up suddenly, hand pressing to his ear. "You've got an urgent phone call."

John nodded, "At ease, airman. We'll get this sorted out quickly enough."

They headed out into the hall and then into the room John had dubbed as the situation room. Someone had even magicked up a phone from somewhere.

"Please tell me it's good news," John said, slumping into the chair.

"It's General O'Neill, sir."

Which could be good or bad news. Bad, because it meant that man still wasn't here. And John was going to hit a brick wall pretty soon.

He could kill for a set of sunglasses.

"Colonel Sheppard," he said into the receiver.

"Sheppard! What on god's blasted earth kind of hornet's nest did you kick over this time?"

John let his head fall forward, shoulders slumping in relief. There were few times he was grateful he wasn't quite at the top of the chain of command. And O'Neill was actually a decent superior officer. "You know me, sir, trouble just runs straight into me." Literally.

"Dr. Lam was very vague on why we were invoking Authorization zero-three-ninety – something about an unauthorized prisoner?"

"Colonel Stadler and his team, sir. They had a raid on a trust facility, brought back a teenager covertly and stashed him in the basement for questioning."

O'Neill swore colorfully. The bare bones of the truth sounded quite ugly – quite career ending. "I'm guessing with about fifty thousand protocols broken in the process."

"Yes, sir." John closed his eyes, not quite prepared to drop the next earth-shattering revelation on him. "And there seems to be a bit of an outbreak with new zats on the base. Dr. Lam reported six incidents within the past month and 25% of inventory has been upgraded."

"You're just a barrel of joy, aren't you Sheppard."

"I do my best, sir."

"That teenager, you find out anything about him? Name, place of residence, what the hell he was doing in a Trust facility?"

"His name is Alex, and that's about it. He's got a bad case of PZS and Stadler's team don't seem to know anything about him either." He figured he would leave the symbiote killing part out of the equation for now. O'Neill could review the notes. "Oh, but he offered up a name – Joe Byrne – and a number. But… uh…" His mind blanked on the technician he had been introduced to briefly. "He doesn't seem to truly exist."

"Did you say… Byrne?" There was a note of horrified anticipation in O'Neill's voice.

John wasn't so sure he wanted to know why. "Yes…"

"Fucking hell in a hand basket." There was an uptick in commotion on O'Neill's end. "Keep him there. Do not, I repeat, do not let him leave or escape. Stop whoever you have from looking any further into Byrne."

"Yes, sir…"

"What was the teenager's name again?"

"Alex, sir."

"You put whoever you trust the most on him. Watch him like a hawk and anyone who comes near him. Byrne…" O'Neill chuckled, but it sounded slightly hysterical. "If that's the kid Byrne is looking for, you may have just prevented an international incident."

John blinked. International incident. Just who was this kid?

"I'll be there in less than an hour. Just have to… lose my tails from the Pentagon. O'Neill out."

The phone clicked off and John couldn't help but stare at it in disbelief.

International incident.

And who was Byrne?

John met Sergeant Mackenzie's eyes across the room. "Get at least two more people that you trust implicitly down to the infirmary. We've apparently got ourselves a VIP." He glanced around the small room and realized he wasn't about to get back up anytime soon. "I'll just… review the notes you've made."

Sergeant Mackenzie nodded and passed over the notebook. Perhaps he realized that John had very little intention of reviewing anything. He had been pressing him to take a break, anyway.

As soon as the door shut and John was alone, he allowed himself to slump in the chair, fingers pressed against his temples. Though Dr. Lam's medicine had helped, after being faced with what felt like hours of stupidity, the migraine had won out.

He wished he had his sunglasses. He hadn't even packed them for the trip, since there had been no hope of getting out to the surface with how packed his schedule had been.

The faint tremors were there and he had no doubt that if Carson saw him now, he would've been ordered into a bed in the infirmary – Colonel or no. He let out a long sigh and let himself put his head down for a moment, blocking out the intensity of the lights.

He could rest his eyes for a few minutes.

A/N: My 'w', 'e', and 'n' keys have decided to stick. So, this was a fun chapter to edit. More John POV, so I'm glad many of you seemed to like him! This is going to be quite the mess to untangle for them all. What did you think?